


Crimson on Blue

by HecatesKiss



Series: Earthbound Pleasures [6]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Kobayashi Maru, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-08
Updated: 2014-11-09
Packaged: 2018-02-24 13:08:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2582495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HecatesKiss/pseuds/HecatesKiss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim sits for the un-winnable.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Not Beta'd. Not making money. I don't own Star Trek. I will return the characters relatively unharmed when I'm through with them.  
> ~*~  
> No part of this story may be reproduced, copied, modified or adapted, without the prior written consent of the author.~ dated 27-08-2014. 
> 
> Guys? I have no problem with download for PERSONAL use, aka a private copy for your e-reader. Zero problema! 
> 
> No, what really makes me see red and want to exterminate something or someone is when my stuff shows up outside of Ao3.

Jim had been playing a game of PADD Vulcan Three Tier Chess for the past few days with Spock. His gaze was focused on the screen as he sat, slouched in the chair. He was debating moving a bishop up to the second tier when Communications caught his attention.

 _Gotta go ~JTK_ He darkened the PADD and shoved it into his chest pocket, attention swinging fully to the communications seat on the bridge.

“-- we are receiving a distress signal from the U.S.S. Kobayashi Maru. The ship has lost power and is stranded. Starfleet Command has ordered us to rescue them.”

“ _Maru_. Compliment and crew?”

“Passenger liner, sir. Hull Designate Foxtrot Sierra Papa One Six Six Delta Niner Niner Five Alpha. Two hundred and eighty nine souls aboard.”

“Nature of emergency for the _Maru_?”

“Hit a mine in Klingon Neutral Space, sir. Drifting without power. Chance of attack imminent.”

“Starfleet orders are rescue, correct?”

“Yes, sir,” 

Jim straightened in the chair and reached for the shipwide comm. He drew a slow breath before he hit the toggle, “This is your captain speaking, all hands to battle stations. We have received a distress signal from a passenger liner in Klingon Neutral Space. Look alive people, this is _not_ a drill. Kirk out.”

Jim took a moment to survey his crew and then swung to tactical. He barely blinked at being bathed in red light. “Mr. Chekov?”

“Aye Captain?”

“What is our weapons compliment?”

“Three-teen photon torpedos, full phazor array. Shields are at full.”

“Thank you Mr. Chekov. Helmsman? Take us in, _Maru’s_ last heading, Communications?”

“One Six Alpha Four.”

“Sir, I must inform you that your actions are in breach of Treaty --” 

Jim held up his hand. “I know which treaty we are violating. However, Starfleet orders us to try. And that is a Federation Starship. Federation. That means we are obligated to try. Take us in, shields on full with weapons hot. I don’t want to have to use them, but I will if we must. Try to hail the _Maru_. Let them know we are on our way.” Jim swung around to face the viewscreen. His fingers tightened into a fist for a moment as Captain Pike’s words echoed in his head.

 _Your father was Captain of a Starship. For twelve minutes. I dare you to do better_.

Jim closed his eyes and felt the slight jolt as they dropped out of warp. He felt the warm, subdued pulse of the bond at the back of his mind. It thrummed as a quiet encouragement and he drew a deep breath and squared his shoulders.

“ _Maru_ directly ahead, Captain.”

“Set an intercept course. Bridge to Engineering.”

“Engineering here, sir.” A new voice responded.

“How are our transporter’s looking?”

“Functional, Captain. Number two is down though.”

“So we have one and three ready?”

“Aye sir.”

“Stand by, prepare to beam stranded civilians aboard.” 

“Aye sir.”

“Kirk out.” Jim responded before alarms shrilled and his head snapped towards Tactical.

“Sir, two Klingon Warbirds just wecloaked.”Chekov called, keeping his voice steady.

“Hail them! Rescue attempt only, no intention to engage!” Kirk barked. He listened to his communications officer try and fail. He counted in his head, giving the woman three attempts before he felt the ship rock. They’d just been fired upon. He swore even as he lurched forward and swung his attention back to tactical. He fell silent as he pushed himself out of the chair and dropped to one knee by Chekov who was bleeding from a scalp wound and out cold.

Jim reached for the toggle on the Tactical station. “Bridge to Medical. Need a medical team to the bridge. Ensign injured, class one injury, personnel non-responsive.”

“Understood.” Was the response from medical. Jim slid easily into the Tactical seat, eyes flicking over readings and screens. He heard the door hiss open and didn’t turn to check on medical. He’d given them the information needed to treat the ensign.

“Three more War Birds just decloaked. Son of a-- Brace!” Jim barked, hands splaying out to either side of the tactical station as the bridge rocked again.

“Sir. The _Maru_ is unresponsive.” Communications responded.

“Engineering!”

“Sir?”

“Scan the _Maru_ for _any_ lifesigns. If you get a lock, beam them aboard, at once.”

“Aye sir.”

“All right people, we’ve got shield damage to our port side. Shields are at fifty three percent overall. Evasive manuvers, and let’s see if we can’t knock out one or two of those war birds. We’ll need a clear path to get the hell out of here once we have survivors aboard. And somebody kill that damn alarm!” 

“Aye sir,” was the only response from the bridge. The blaring alarm fell silent.The ship rocked again and Jim felt his neck wrench from the jolt.

“Engineering to Bridge. One hundred and three souls beamed aboard.” 

“Fantastic job, Engineering. If you can, divert power from torpedos into shields. We’ll need every scrap she’s willing to give us.”

“Aye sir! Engineering out.” 

“Eight more. Port, aft, and starboard. We have thirteen bogies in the air, all reading as War Birds. Firing phazers in three -- two --”

The bridge went dark and Jim swore viciously. He punched the console twice and then lifted his eyes to the overhead window where three men stood backlit.

“ The Maru has been destroyed. Your ship has been destroyed.” An emotionless voice responded.

“No shit.” Jim refrained from punching the console again and propped his head in his hands, cursing under his breath. He ran the scenario through his mind again and sighed, lips pressed into a firm line. He punched the console for the last time as he stood. he turned towards the crew and nodded once.

“You did your jobs admirably. Sorry I screwed up.” Jim then walked off the bridge, leaving other cadets staring after him, gaping in shock.

Outside the simulation room Jim spun and punched the wall again. He hissed as he felt fire jar all the way up his arm. He hissed at the pain as it registered as a searing ache and leaned his forehead against the wall. He blinked when he realized blood stained the wall. His skin had split at some point. “Fuck.”

Concern rippled through the bond and Jim pushed it away. He looked up when gentle hands pulled him around and cupped his damaged hand. He hissed and swore as fingers probed and prodded.

“You broke it, smart one.” Bones gruffed. Jim hissed and tried to jerk away. Bones actually smacked him upside the head. Jim froze, blinking, startled. He yelped when a hypo was shoved against his neck.

“Damn it…” Jim shook his head and slowly slid down the wall, Bones following him down. “Damn it. I _had_ it!”

“Jim? It was a sim.”

“One thousand two hundred and fifteen, Bones. Over a thousand fucking souls and I fucked it up.”

“Jim…” A hand rested gently on his arm and Jim violently flinched away. Bones lifted an apologetic hand and Jim flushed slightly, dipping his head.

“God damn it! Don’t Bones. I deserve it. I fucked up, and got my crew and civilians killed. Fuck. I should have immediately put us on scan, not just trusting the instruments to grab it passively. Shit.” Jim slammed his head against the wall. Bones growled and jabbed him with another hypo. Jim swore creatively, which caused Bones to grin.

“I’m tempted to put you under until you are ready to talk sense, Jim.”

“I could have done better. I _know_ it, Bones.”

“Is that your answer to everything?”

“You know it is. This was bull shit.”

“Jim. This sim isn’t built to test…”

“Bones? If you are my friend, shut the fuck up, please.” Jim could hear the whine in his voice. He was grateful that his friend _did_. He took the next two shots without protest and then allowed the Doctor to haul him to his feet.

“Now, you are going to go home. Home Jim. Or I will figure out how to give you a flu that puts you in bed for two weeks just so you quit obsessing. Got me?”

“Damn it.” Jim growled. Bones merely bared his teeth and prodded the younger man towards the door. Jim blinked when the bond thrummed sharply and he looked up. 

There stood Spock, one brow arched. “You have injured yourself.”

“Maru test, Lt. Commander.”

“My title is now Commander, Doctor McCoy.” Pale fingers were clasped behind the Vulcan’s back.

“Congrats on your promotion. Deal with him, please. He’s fighting me.” Bones pushed Jim’s half drugged body towards the Science Officer. Jim staggered and the Vulcan caught the other man before his knees could fully buckle and send him to the plascrete walkway.

“What have you administered?” Spock didn’t seem to care that crimson blood was staining his tunic. He shifted his grip so that an arm was slung around Jim’s waist.

“ Non-narcotic pain medication. And a mild tranquilizer. he would have belted me otherwise. Jim doesn’t do fail very well. Oh, he does pain just fine. Just not failure. And he’s right. This test is bull shit. Get him home and asleep.” Bones snarled. The Vulcan nodded and supported Jim under one elbow and around his waist before he swung them both for the door, completely ignoring the viewing platform that glared down on all three of them.

Bones paused for a moment to glare up at the window before he too stalked away.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spock's POV of the same incident.

Commander Spock allowed his gaze to flick up from his PADD chess match as the Lt. Commander Travis stepped into the observation room. He understood his T’hy’la’s dislike of the man. There was a brashness, his mother would have called it arrogance, in the set of the shoulders and there was viciousness in the expression, the way the lips twisted and the man sniffed as he gazed down on James T. Kirk.

“He seems relaxed enough. Not even paying attention to--”

“That would be incorrect, Lieutenant Commander. The cadet has looked up approximately fifteen times in the last minute. He _is_ paying attention to the crew around him. It just appears that he isn’t. I am certain he could tell you the minute nervous expressions of his helmsman, his tactical officer, and even his communications officer.” Spock reprimanded, voice bland as he moved a rook up to the second Tier and waited for his mate to make the next move.

“Lieu--”

“It is Commander, Mr. Travis.” Spock pushed down the urge to smirk as the man startled. He turned to the third observer. “Start the simulation.”

Spock read his mate’s message and let the corner of his lips curve infinitesimally upwards. He then darkened his PADD and stepped to the window, sending a tendril of encouragement to his bondmate. He then reinforced his shields, calculating the probability of his mate becoming distressed to be high.

His eyebrow went up slightly at the reasoning the cadet gave for the rescue. He understood the concept of solidarity, of loyalty to a common banner. He was loyal to his Clan. He clasped his hands behind his back as he watched the cadet make quick decisions. His eyebrow winged up as the cadet simulated a shipwide communication. It was a logical decision. He could find no fault with it.

Spock frowned slightly at the interruption of the officer informing the cadet of the treaty about to be breached. It was rudely done. However, his mother had oft pointed out that humans were not completely rational beings. 

The mutter of profanity from the cadet in the Command Chair as the first jolt rocked the simulated bridge had Spock repressing a sigh. The contact to engineering had the third observer grinning.

Travis muttered something uncomplimentary. Spock smoothed his face blank when cadet seated at tactical slid unconscious from the chair.

The third observer snorted slightly when Kirk slid into the tactical station’s seat after checking the downed cadet. Spock nodded slightly, hearing the call. He expected the cadet to return to the Command chair, yet he was proven wrong.

“Jim has trained for Tactical Operations.” The third observer muttered. Spock inclined his head.

“Of course he has, Captain.” 

“And there’s the simulation.” Travis muttered before he pressed the toggle. “The _Maru_ has been destroyed. Your ship has been destroyed.”

Spock and his Captain watched Jim react. Spock remaining impassive as the younger man punched the console twice. The bond rippled for a moment, reflecting doubt and pain. Then Jim Kirk pushed to his feet and apologized to his crew. He walked off the simulated bridge. Spock turned and headed directly for the door, feeling the pain reverberate down the link. Travis spluttered.

He had to get to his T’hy’la. At once. The false wall that concealed the Observer’s Stair was practical. He suppressed his sympathetic nervous system as physical pain echoed through the bond. Concern raced back, pulled from him. He controlled his instinctive reaction,which was to harm what had harmed his mate. He would not allow sensation or instinct to control him. He blinked when he was ‘brushed aside’ by his bondmate.

Spock took the twists and turns at a brisk clip. He paused for a moment to collect himself. He then slipped through the doorway, bond once more open and thrumming. Jim looked up, seemingly fine, even as emotion battered against Spock’s shields.

Guilt, rage, sadness, and a determination that made predicting his mate’s reaction all the more difficult. Jim Kirk was not an entirely logical being.

““You have injured yourself.”

“Maru test, Lt. Commander.” Doctor McCoy pointed out, needlessly. Spock briefly pondered the human fallacy of repeating the obvious.

“My title is now Commander, Doctor McCoy.” Pale fingers were clasped behind the Vulcan’s back to conceal the fact he wanted to hold his mate and check for the injury himself.

“Congrats on your promotion. Deal with him, please. He’s fighting me.” Doctor McCoy's brow was winged up in surprise. Spock stepped forward as Jim was pushed carelessly in his direction. He caught his mate before his knees could fully buckle and send him to the plascrete walkway. Spock suppressed the urge to snarl his mate was injured and the doctor was pushing him around?

“What have you administered?” Spock asked, able to sense the odd “fuzzy” feeling of a dimmed bond. Something in the drug cocktail for pain had blunted Jim’s Psi-Centers. The scent of blood reached Spock's nose and he glanced down to see red Terran blood smeared on his science blues.

“Non-narcotic pain medication. And a mild tranquilizer. he would have belted me otherwise. Jim doesn’t do fail very well. Oh, he does pain just fine. Just not failure. And he’s right. This test is bull shit. Get him home and asleep.” The Vulcan nodded and supported Jim under one elbow and around his waist. Spock knew that direct skin contact would effect him as well, so he made certain his fingers only came into contact with clothed portions of his mate’s anatomy. 

Jim leaned heavily on him. Spock took the extra weight and huffed before he swung them both for the door, completely ignoring the viewing platform that glared down on all three of them. Spock had a injured bondmate to care for. The bond and his mate came before even his own test.


End file.
